Definition of WHORE ~ merriam-webster dictionaryDefinition of whore ~ Urban Dictionary: a woman who sleeps with you in exchange for something, usually money
When they call me a whore, they think they know. They think they have it all figured out; like, they’re so clever for deciphering the code, for labeling me, for getting the message out.
When they call me a whore, they think it is their words that will hurt me. They tell themselves that I deserve it, that I had it coming because I slept with so many guys. They believe that my number will always outrank who I am as a person.
When they call me a whore, they define me for my mistakes. They define me as a person by the things I have done, or have supposedly done. They don’t take a moment to pause, to consider the validity, or sense it may or may not make.
They think they know all that is worth knowing.
But; what they don’t know, is that I am a whore.
I am a huge fucking whore.
:: The summer before Junior year of high school, I slept with almost every boy to even give me the time of day.
:: It was only towards the end of Senior year in high school that I began to question my logic of sex and sleeping around.
:: It wasn’t until a year and a half ago that my actions and decisions had caught up with me; and the consequences became very real.
:: After that I slowed down, going from feeling emotionally off when having sex with someone I didn’t care about, to finally, hitting a breaking point.
:: Four months ago; I went on Facebook, scrolled through my friends list, and wrote down every guy i scrolled past that I had slept with. After, I thought on it and wrote down the name of boys I could remember that were not on my Facebook.
It was then that I began to understand how fucked up my logic of sex and sleeping around had become. My view had been so warped, and so screwed up; it had left me with nothing inside.
Since four months ago, I have struggled so immensely with the weight; of the consequences I must now live with for the rest of my life, of the dignity and self-respect I have entirely lost for myself, and for the memories and reminders I see every waking moment of everyday.
The shame of my actions blind me, they blind me and they hold me back. From loving myself, from letting myself be loved by anyone else. From feeling worthy of anyone or anything, from allowing anyone else to think I am worthy of them or anyone else.
The shame that resides deep within the pit of my stomach, that controls my every move and thought, that has me teetering on the edge of the sanity; allows me to brush off the words of others, and allows me to laugh at the labels they give me.
When they call me a whore, they think they know.
When they call me a whore, they think it is their own words that are making it difficult for me to breathe.
But they don’t know, and it’s not their words that haunt me.
I, alone, will be the one to feel the weight and burn of the knowledge and truth behind their words, behind my own words – that of which are so much harsher than they could ever imagine. I, alone, will the one to carry the shame and lack-of self-worth through the rest of my life, until the day I die.
So, when they call me a whore, it is because I let them.
It is because I deserve it, in such a way that they will never comprehend.